


The Idiot Raven and the Cowardly Lion

by Chameleon_Incognito



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Pottertalia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 14:22:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4525329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chameleon_Incognito/pseuds/Chameleon_Incognito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred is an unintelligent, yet stupidly brave wizard who will no doubt be sorted into Gryffindor. Arthur is a rich, cunning pureblood who will follow in his family's footsteps and become a Slytherin. ...or not. (USUK if I continue it).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Idiot Raven and the Cowardly Lion

Alfred

For generations, the Jones family has been in Gryffindor. It was only expected of both young Alfred and Matthew to be in the house of the brave as well. That was what worried Alfred; while he was certain that he would be placed in the expected house, he wasn't so sure of his brother.

Matthew wasn't very brave. He was the cautious child, always trying to talk Alfred out of doing anything too reckless or dangerous. He didn't like trying anything new, whereas Alfred took every opportunity to. He was very timid, often too shy to voice any desires or needs.

Simply put, Matthew was not Gryffindor material.

Nevertheless, Alfred lied through his teeth, assuring his twin that he was certain he'd get placed into Gryffindor. However, Matthew wasn't stupid. He knew his brother was lying, and he knew the chances of him being placed into the desired house were slim to none. Matthew simply wasn't brave; it was a fact of life.

“Are you sure you aren't forgetting anything?”

Alfred rolled his eyes at his mother and said, “You've asked us that over four times already! Yes, we have everything we need!”

Matthew, on the other hand, stopped and thought hard about the question he was presented with before quietly answering, “I think so.”

The Native American woman wrapped her arms around her two boys and clutched them tightly to herself. Looking at the trio, one wouldn't guess they were mother and sons, for the two boys shared none of the woman's dark traits, instead inheriting their father's white skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes. Genes truly worked in mysterious ways. 

Since Hogwarts had only been accepting foreigners for ten years, the woman had not attended the legendary school for young witches and wizards. On the contrary, she was homeschooled on the reservation she grew up on in Nevada. She wanted to give her boys the same schooling she had recovered by teaching them herself, but her husband, whose family was from England, convinced her to let the twins attend his Alma matter. 

“Mom, you're embarrassing us!” came Alfred's muffled protest. Matthew didn't mind; he knew their mother would miss them.

She pulled back to wipe a few unshed tears from her eyes. “You two are so grown up! Already going off to Hogwarts...”

Beside them, a train whistle blew loud, telling all its impending passengers that it would take off soon. Alfred, impatient as always, jumped up and down. “We have to go mom, or we'll miss the train!”

She gave the preteens one last hug before she let them scramble onto the train. As the train pulled out of the station, the two boys waved goodbye to their mother; Matthew a little sadly, and Alfred very enthusiastically.

“Finally!” sighed the elder twin. “I thought we'd never get out of there!”

Matthew gave his brother a chastising look. “Alfred, we aren't going to see Mom for months; can you at least pretend to care?”

“Hm, let me think about that....no.”

The younger shook his head at his brother's insensitivity. Sometimes, Alfred can just be so stupid, he thought.

“Come on Mattie, let's go find a booth!” Alfred interrupted his brother's thoughts.

The pair scurried down the aisles, but every booth seemed to be full. It wasn't until they got to near the end of the train that they saw an empty one. Immediately, Alfred scrambled to the window to look at the scenery. “Wow, look at this, Mattie! England is so...green!”

Said boy looked over his brother's shoulder and followed his gaze directed towards the rolling, plush green hills. It was contrasting, to say the least, of their home in San Antonio. “I think I like Canada better...” of course, Alfred didn't even hear his brother’s quiet words.

“I wonder Mattie...how much grass do you think is on one hill alone?” The younger shrugged, not really interested in such a topic. “And on one piece of grass, there are millions of microscopic life forms like bacteria, so how many microscopic life forms would be in a whole field of grass?” Alfred turned to his brother looking for his input.

However, Matthew self-consciously rubbed his arm. “Oh...I thought that was a rhetorical question...”

Alfred’s eyebrows furrowed slightly before he snapped his mouth closed quickly. Plastering a grin back on his face he gave a high pitched laugh and said, “I-it was!” Matthew shot his twin a weirded out expression. 

“May I join you two?”

The blondes whipped their head around to see a Japanese boy their age standing in the doorway of their booth. Alfred flashed him a bright smile and replied, “‘course you can!”

He (quite literally) kicked his brother out of the seat next to himself and patted it enthusiastically. “You can sit right next to me!”

The Japanese boy looked quite wary now, but sat next to the be-speckled blonde, regardless. “I'm Alfred!” The American grabbed the other boy's hand in a brisk hand shake. “The quiet guy that looks just like me is my twin brother Matthew! Who're you?”

“Y-you may call me Kiku. It's very nice to meet you both.”

As the train's destination drew closer and closer, Matthew anxiety grew larger and larger. He wanted to be in Gryffindor so badly; he would be disappointing his whole family if he got into anything else. Not to mention how Alfred would respond...despite being twins, the boys weren't very close. In fact, Matthew somewhat resented Alfred.

Alfred always received more attention from their parents. He always was the one with friends. He got first pick of everything, heck, he was even born first. The universe just seemed to favor Alfred over Matthew; it simply wasn't fair. For once, Matthew wanted to be the one in the spotlight, not Alfred. Why did Alfred always have to outshine his brother in everything? Was it so much to ask that, for once, Matthew could have a chance at glory?

Amongst his conversation with Alfred, Kiku noticed Matthew's pained expression. “Matthew, what is the matter? You look upset.”

So surprised that he got addressed by someone, Matthew stuttered for a minute before Alfred cut in, “He's just nervous about what house he'll be put in. You see, our dad and all of his relatives have always been Gryffindor, but Mattie here thinks he'll be put in something like Hufflepuff!”

“Al, I never said—”

“I wouldn't worry,” Kiku interrupted. “You two are twins, right?” At their nods of conformation he continued, “Siblings are usually in the same house, and there's never been a pair of twins put in separate houses before. It's more likely that you would end up in the same house than not, despite how different you two seem.”

Alfred beamed and reached across to give Matthew's shoulder a hearty slap. “Did 'ya hear that, Mattie? See, we'll both be in Gryffindor!”

Matthew rubbed his now-sore shoulder as his eye twitched in annoyance. If dimwits like you are there, I'd rather be in Slytherin...he really is an oblivious idiot.

“So Kiku,” started Alfred, “do you have any house you're hoping to get into?”

Kiku carefully thought of the question, for he hadn't really thought about what house he'd wind up in. “I suppose I don't really mind...they all have merit, in my opinion.”

To Matthew, Kiku's was a refreshing answer; all he had heard before was his father boast about how great Gryffindor was, and that you could never trust a Slytherin. (However, he was only joking because of an old rivalry).

Alfred, on the other hand, said, “Psh, Gryffindor is clearly the best house to be in! Slytherin is the worst, worthless people go in Hufflepuff, and don't get me started of Ravenclaw! They're all a bunch of sissy know-it-alls! I mean, being smart won’t do you any good in a real fight if you have no bravery to fight back, right? Yet all those dumb Ravenclaws think they’re hot crap just because they can solve fancy-smancy riddles!”

Matthew sighed tiredly, “Al, you shouldn't go around dissing the other houses like that...”

“What? I'm only speaking the truth,” he responded defensively. 

“I beg to differ, Alfred,” Kiku deadpanned. “The cunning and ambitious go to Slytherin, the loyal and pure of heart go to Hufflepuff, the wizards who value knowledge above all else go to Ravenclaw, and those that have courage and bravery go to Gryffindor. There are ‘good’ and ‘bad’ wizards in each house. Additionally, if you check the statistics, you would see that wizards who were in Slitherin and Ravenclaw have the highest success rates out of the four houses, Slytherin in particular. Overall, they seem to even out to me.”

Alfred grumbled and slumped in his seat, but didn't respond. Matthew couldn't help but smile to himself at Alfred's displeasure.

The three boys changed right before the train pulled into Hogwarts. By this point, Alfred was no longer the only one buzzing with excitement; Matthew carried a hop in his step, and Kiku allowed himself a small smile of anticipation. Arriving at the legendary school of Hogwarts was something all first years were bouncing off the walls about (with some, literally).

While some of the staff loved the first years and always warmly welcomed them, the rest of the staff found them to be of an annoyance and went at all lengths to avoid the. However, all teachers had to take turns being in charge of incoming first-years, even the ones that really, really didn't want to, such as Arman Tavana, aka Professor Tavana. Unfortunately for the first years, he was the one who had the duty of being a tour guide to the first years. It was obvious to everyone how much he loathed the job.

Tavana despised one kid in particular that year. He was a bright, blue eyed, blond lad, who couldn’t seem to understand the words “shut up”. No matter where they were, what he said or what he did, the annoying little brat would find something to comment about.

“Why do the stairs change direction? It seems like it would make someone dizzy after a while. Or do they move in the direction that the person who is walking up the stair wants to go? But what would happen if two different people were walking up those steps, and they both wanted to go a different direction? That wouldn’t be good. Then what would happen if there were a whole bunch of people going up the steps?”

“You know, if the stairs move, than why don’t the doors do too? It would be helpful if someone was carrying something, and instead of having to scramble to open the door, it would just swing open for them and shut behind them without them having to lift a finger? Oh yeah, that would be a good way for intruders to get in…never mind.”

“Do you guys teach combat? I mean, I know you have “defense against the dark arts”, but what about defense against a wizard that doesn’t necessarily use ‘dark’ magic? I mean, there are other types of magic than just ‘light’ and ‘dark’, right? So what would you do if a dark wizard was attacking you with ‘light’ magic? How would you defend yourself against that? Or are the definitions of ‘light’ and ‘dark’ magic dependable solely on the user of said magic?”

“Hey, Tavana dude, you okay? Your face is all pale, and your jaw and fists are kind of all clenched and shaking…I think you should see a doctor about that.”

It took all of his willpower not to up and strangle the kid. To top it off, he was American. That’s just perfect. Tavana was more that relieved when he left the kids to sit at the table set-up for first years. He pitied the poor souls that would receive that unbelievably annoying American. He’ll probably be another Gryffindor block-head, the bitter professor thought.

Headmaster Roma stepped up to the podium, and began his welcome speech for all the returning and new Hogwarts students. Alfred could hardly listen to the speech because of his excitement.

“Calm down Al, they’ll get to the sorting soon enough,” Matthew elbowed his twin.

“It’s just so exciting!” the vibrating boy exclaimed. “I can’t wait to be sorted into Gryffindor!”

Matthew dropped his arm, and looked down. Of course his brother would get Gryffindor. And despite Kiku’s reassurances, he knew he wouldn’t be in Gryffindor. Wimps like him don’t get into the house of the brave. 

The time came when first-years began being sorted into their houses. While time seemed to go at an agonizingly slow pace to Alfred, Matthew let out a sigh of relief every time someone else’s name was called. He was dreading being sorted into a house.

Before he knew it, the boy the twins met on the train, Kiku, was called to be sorted. Both Alfred and Matthew wished him good luck. Kiku nodded respectively before standing up, and crossing the room to the sorting house.

The sorting had “hummed” for a few seconds before it belted out, “RAVENCLAW!”

Matthew quietly applauded the Japanese boy, hoping that if he wasn’t in Gryffindor (like he knew he wouldn’t be), he would be in Ravenclaw with Kiku. 

A few more names were called and sorted before Matthew heard his own. Matthew began to shake with nerves, but Alfred simply smiled at his brother, slapped him on the back and said, “Best of luck, Maddie! I hope you get into the house you want!”

Matthew shot him a shaky smile at him in return, vaguely recalling that Alfred could be very nice when he chose to be.

The last thought Matthew had before the sorting house was put on his head was, “At least they didn’t forget me.”

Almost as soon as the black hat was sat on his head it shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!” 

Said house started politely clapping, as they did for all their new recruits, but no one clapped louder than a certain blond-haired blue-eyed boy sitting at the table with yet-to-be-sorted first years.

Matthew saw Alfred jumping up and down, beaming. The timid twin found himself letting out a small smile, before it turned into a huge grin. Looking at his brother cheering for him, Matthew remembered that sometimes he actually liked Alfred. 

He ran over to the Gryffindor table, happy with the knowledge that he would be in the same house as his brother. They would both make their father proud by being in Gryffindor. 

Alfred was called up to the sorting hat next. Contrary to his brother, he strode up there with absolute confidence, already knowing what house he was going to be put in. Any shred of doubt that he wouldn’t get into Gryffindor was shattered when Matthew got sorted there. After all, if Matthew got into Gryffindor, than he certainly would too, right?

However, instead of immediately shouting out “Gryffindor” the moment it was sat on his head like Alfred expected it to, it simply sat in his head in absolute silence. 

For a solid five minutes, the hat didn’t utter any house names. By then, people were starting to get confused, wondering why the boy wasn’t sorted already; no one’s sorting had taken that long.

Alfred became slightly annoyed. “What’s taking so long?” he thought.

“It would be easier if you weren’t such an enigma.”

The boy gave a jolt of shock, earning some mutterings of concern in the crowd. 

“Was that you, Mr. Sorting hat sir?” Alfred thought hesitantly.

“Who else would it me?” the hat replied. “Of course it’s me.”

Alfred took a moment to get over his shock. “What did you mean when you called me an enigma?”

“Exactly what I said,” the hat replied. “You’re a complex kid; many contradicting qualities. I’m trying to figure you out.”

“People have always told me I was simple,” Alfred remarked.

The hat gave something like a chuckle. “Those people would be wrong. Hmmm….you’re confident, but at the same time you’re very insecure. You are also not very brave, despite the way you act.”

“I’m plenty brave!”

“Then why are you afraid of expressing your true interests?”

Alfred shuffled uncomfortably. “That’s different. My dad says that’s not how the people in Gryffindor act like…”

“Then you are not Gryffindor, even if you pretend to be the perfect poster boy for that house. No matter how hard you try, you cannot change the person you are within.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

If a hat could sigh, that’s what the hat did. “Let’s go through a process of elimination. You could be loyal and you do care about others in your own way, but you are no were near considerate enough to be Hufflepuff. You also don’t fit into Gryffindor for reasons I have just explained. That leaves—”

“Not Slytherin!” Alfred mentally cut off the hat. “Anything but that!” He gripped the sides of his chair, suddenly very anxious.

“Are you sure? Slytherin seems to be a very appropriate choice for someone like yourself. You are very good at getting exactly what you want, and while by nature you are not a cunning person, you aren’t against pulling strings. After all, the ends justify the means, correct?”

On impulse, Alfred automatically responded, “The end cannot justify the means for the simple and obvious reason that the means determine the nature of the ends produced.” Alfred wanted to slap himself. Spouting nonsense from Aldous Huxley was exactly the kind things Gryffindor’s didn’t do!

The hat seemed to chuckle to itself. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? Well, I wasn’t planning to put you in Slytherin. Even if I was, you last comments just solidified my reasoning. That means—”

Alfred froze, realizing what the hat was saying. “Look Mr. sorting hat Sir, I know what you’re getting at, but you’re wrong. I’m not a smart person, and I most definitely am not Ravenclaw material.”

“On the contrary, I find you quite bright. Not necessarily in the conventional way, but that’s very refreshing compared to all the bookworms I get in Ravenclaw. Yes, I think that house will suit you very well.”

“You don’t understand!” the boy pleaded. “Everyone has always called me stupid, and for a good reason. It’s because I am! If you put me in Ravenclaw, everyone will laugh at me! I’m a moron!”

“You cut yourself short,” the hat commented. “Despite how vehemently you deny it, you have the greatest attribute an intelligent wizard could have.”

“…and that would be?”

“Curiosity.”

Before Alfred could somehow plead to be put into Gryffindor, the hat gave a great bellow of, “RAVENCLAAAAAAAAW!” It was his biggest yell yet, perhaps because he had been sitting on Alfred’s head for over 10 minutes. 

In a daze, Alfred trudged over to the table of cheering Ravenclaws and found himself a seat beside Kiku. I don’t understand…Alfred thought glumly. I did everything right! I acted like the typical Gryffindor student! I was never afraid of anything! I stopped reading informational books, I stopped making science and magic experiments, I quit all of it! So…why am I here instead of over there?

The boy looked up to see the shocked expression on his twins face. Alfred didn’t make any type of response and looked away. It was more than embarrassing that Matthew had gotten into Gryffindor, yet Alfred didn’t. 

Alfred never thought himself as stupid, but he never, not in his wildest dreams, thought he would be a Ravenclaw.

As the other first years were called up, Alfred made a vow to himself; he would act the most un-Raveclaw-like someone could possibly be. That way, it would be obvious that the sorting hat made a mistake. 

The blond boy fisted his hands in determination. He would end up in Gryffindor one way or another.

Arthur

Arthur Kirkland was second youngest of five boys, the youngest being his little brother Peter, who was almost four and already the bane of Arthur’s existence.

The oldest was Allister Kirkland, the one whom his parents had decided to favor over all the rest of them. Sometimes Arthur thought there should be a law that only people who wanted kids were allowed to have them. 

However, if that were the case, Arthur, along with Peter and his two older brother’s Owen and Conner would all cease to exist. So maybe it was a good thing there was no such law…

Allister was in last, 7th year at Hogwarts while Owen, being the second oldest, was in his 6th. Conner was headed into his 4th year whereas Arthur, the black sheep in the family, was only going to be a mere first year. 

He hailed from a long pedigree of proud, English Slytherins. The “purest of the pure” as his family liked to say. Not once going back as many generations accountable was there an ounce of muggle blood mixed in with his family. This was a fact that they were very proud of, especially considering the fact that it was getting harder and harder for a family to remain completely untainted. 

Ever since Hogwarts became an international school a decade ago, more and more “trash” (as his mum liked to call it) began polluting the sacred halls of their alma mater. Instead of Arthur’s parents insisting to take their children elsewhere, they got this ludicrous idea that they had to “save” the school for wizarding, and thus began to promote the restoration of simply a national opposed to international school.

A few powerful Slytherin families completely supported the Kirkland’s “valiant” efforts, but so far, Hogwarts has stubbornly stood by their decision to become global. This had all the old prominent pure-bread families simply spitting in anger. 

Honestly, Arthur didn’t really see what all the big fuss was about. It didn’t really matter to him that foreigners attended Hogwarts; so what if someone happened to come from Switzerland or Sweden? As long as they didn’t cause a commotion and kept out of trouble it shouldn’t be an issue, right?

Nevertheless, Arthur would never dear let any of his family know his true opinion. Whenever the subject of foreigners at Hogwarts came up, Arthur just nodded along with what everyone said. After all, it wasn’t as if his parents hated foreigners in general; they just didn’t like how the count of muggle born children at Hogwarts had significantly risen after the acclaimed school became international. 

That was one thing Arthur could understand; the fact that Muggle born children were inferior to those who had pure wizard blood running through their veins. It only made sense that the better wizards were those who had a better pedigree, correct?

Which is how we come to Arthur’s inner turmoil: he wanted to be in Slitherin because he agreed with the ideals, but he was, for lack of a better term, afraid to be sorted into the house of the Snake. 

One reason was the fact that he didn’t want to be in the same house as the rest of his brothers. Dear God, he did not want to be in the same house as his oldest brother. Owen was the only one he could stomach, but Conner and Allister?

No, uh-uh, no way in hell on earth, never. Yet, unfortunately, it was relatively rare for siblings to be sorted into different houses. It wasn’t impossible, but it was improbable. The thought of being constantly bossed around by one of his brother’s for the next few years of his life without ever getting a break was unbearable. 

His brothers weren’t the only reason Arthur was afraid of getting sorted into Slytherin; he didn’t want to shame his family, but he also didn’t want to be subjected to the same, dull fate he knew he would receive once he was sorted into Slytherin.

Most all who ended up in the Slytherin house were guaranteed a good future. Even those who lacked the trademark crafty intelligence that Slytherin was (in)famous for, they made up in connections and wealth, thanks to their pure blood line. 

Sure, success appealed as much to Arthur as it did the next person, but it all seemed so…terribly boring. Of course he never dared voice his concerns to his family. they would probably just tell him that he was only twelve so of course he didn’t know what he wanted. 

But Arthur knew the truth.

He wasn’t Slitherin material if he wasn’t sure what he wanted and wasn’t ambitious enough to get it, and that scared him more than anything. 

Arthur had a miserable train ride to Hogwarts. Neither Allister, Conner, nor even Owen let him sit with them. Not that Arthur had a problem with that….it’s not like he wanted to be associated with those morons, but any attempts to disassociate would be fruitless, for their eyebrows gave them away. He ended up sitting by the most aggravating person on the face of the planet. 

A snobby French kid by the name of Francis Bonnefoy, as he oh-so-loved to say. He was a self-centered prick if Arthur ever saw one. 

Of course, Arthur knew he had to play nice, for the name “Bonnefoy”, despite being French, was one of the most prominent pure-blood names there were. If fact, Francis’s family was just as powerful, if not more so, than Arthur’s. It didn’t make the kid any less infuriating as he tried so desperately to kiss Arthur’s arse. 

To make matters worse, the two other boys inside the booth were just as obnoxious as the French kid. One was a loud albino boy from Germany, while the other was a very, quite frankly, stupid boy from Spain. The three already knew each other because of family ties, and were quite happy to be together. 

If there were such thing as being a “fourth wheel”, that is what Arthur was at that moment in time.

“So, you actually live in England?” Antonio, the one from Spain, asked. Arthur wanted to face palm. “What’s it like?”

“Tonio,” the albino sighed, “How many times do we have to keep reminding you, we’re in England.”

The brunette blinked at his friend for a solid minute before breaking out across his face. He laughed a little, “Oh yeah, huh? No wonder why it’s raining outside!” Turning back to Arthur he said, with the smile still on his face, “Your life must really suck! I’m so sorry!”

Arthur could practically feel the vein throbbing out of his head as his eye twitched irritably. It took every ounce of restraint in his entire being not to jump across the short expanse of the booth to strangle the other. 

“While it does rain a lot,” Francis chimed, “the country is quite pretty.” Arthur felt himself relaxing into the seat and thought, maybe this Frog isn’t so bad after all, until he continued with, “After all, it’s not the land that’s the problem, but the people.”

This time, Arthur couldn’t hold his tongue. “Excuse me?”

The Frenchie seemed to realize he said a “no-no” to a member of the wizarding communities’ most powerful families. He froze in his seat, and carefully worded his next sentence. “I—I mean, there’s just been such a surge in muggle-born births lately, it’s such a shame! Some of the most pure families in the world live here, yet almost every day you hear about some big scandal that someone like the Eldensteins had a child out of wedlock with a muggle of a mud-blood! It’s just…so disappointing, that’s all.” 

The Briton raised one monolithic eyebrow. “The Eldensteins are Austrian, and it’s highly unlikely that the richest pure-bloods in Europe would fraternize with mud-bloods, let alone muggles. And besides, it’s not as if the rates of increasing mud-bloods in the United Kingdom is any different than the rest of Europe. If I recall correctly, France just had a record amount of mud-bloods born this year alone.”

The other blonds eyes narrowed slightly and, most curiously, his lips seemed to form a pout. His overall expression regarded Arthur with suspicion, but mixed in was another emotion that Arthur couldn’t say he easily identified. 

“Hm. I never said the same wasn’t true for my own country.”

“But you didn’t exactly make it clear that you were aware of that fact. I was merely informing you, not pointing out the flaws in your reasoning.”

“But if you weren’t pointing out the flaws in my reasoning, why would you have drawn my attention to the fact that the example I used of deteriorating families was invalid for the point I was trying to prove?”

“If you recall correctly, not once did I say your reasoning was invalid. I only pointed out a fact you seemed to have missed.”

“Isn’t that no different than ‘pointing out the flaws in my reasoning’?”

“It depends on how you want to look at the conversation which, from my point of view, I was merely stating facts to expand on the conversation. Since I was the original speaker of said phrase in question, that means the connotation I intended is, in fact, the ‘correct’ way to view the information given. Therefore, it was not said to criticize your original statements, rather than to draw your attention to a few facts I was unsure you were aware of, while at the same time expanding on the conversation.”

As the two continued to pick apart each other’s argument, Gilbert and Antonio watched them back and forth, similar to the way one would watch a ping pong match. 

“Are you following any of this?” Gilbert whispered to his companion.

“They’re arguing about a pointless miscommunication, but really they’re trying to see who’s smarter,” Antonio whispered back. While Antonio was ditsy, (he actually really was), he was also deceptively perceptive. 

Gilbert nodded, not really caring about who was smarter, but mentally rooted for Francis. There was just something about the Brit that rubbed him the wrong way…

Once a silence finally settled over the two blonds, Gilbert asked Antonio, “Who won?”

“It was a tie,” he whispered. “They ended the argument because they both ended up agreeing that America has the highest amount of Mud-bloods.”

Rolling his scarlet eyes Gilbert groaned, “That, still?!”

Both the Brit and the French’s heads whipped towards Gilbert’s direction. “What was that?” the second asked.

“Um, er, I said ‘that pill’, because, gottverdammt, I hate pills!” 

Antonio’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “But I thought you said—”

Gilbert busted out laughing. Arthur actually jumped in shock at the…bizarre… sound. Honestly, it sounded more like the German was chocking than laughing. “Oh Antonio,” he said, “You’re so funny.” On the last word, he slapped the other boy on the back rather harshly. 

The Spaniard continued to look up at him, confused. “But I wasn’t making a joke.” 

Francis shook his head. “The Spanish are so weird…” 

Antonio say back in his seat, face furrowed in an upset frown.

Arthur carefully regarded Francis out of the corner of his eye, perfectly aware that Francis was doing the same to him. Arthur mentally noted to himself that he’d have to watch out for Francis; he may look like a girl, but despite his ridiculous hair, he was a formidable foe if you happened to get on the wrong side of him. 

The brit grimaced once he realized that he wasn’t even sorted, yet he was already playing the socialite game that came with being influential, rich, and a pure-blood. 

While most of the first years were excited for the sorting ceremony, Arthur was dreading it. Unlike many of the first years, Arthur already knew which house he would be sorted into. He just wanted to keep his innocence for as long as he could. 

That’s when it happened. 

A timid looking lad with blond hair was sorted into Gryffindor. Of course, that’s not odd in itself; he wasn’t even the first kid to be sorted into Gryffindor that night. 

After he was sorted, a boy who looked completely identical to him was called to be sorted. They were twins, no doubt. The sorting had must have sat on his head for ten minutes before it bellowed out as loud as it could possibly say, “RAVENCLAW!” 

Immediately, a quite commotion started up at all the tables. Never has there been a pair of twin that were sorted into different houses. No, it wasn’t impossible, but it just had never happened. 

That got Arthur thinking. If that boy defied blood…could he as well? Was there a way he could change the inevitable fate he was born with? 

His brothers would be embarrassed and claim no relation to me. His parents? Absolutely humiliated and mortified. 

But…this was the only chance he had to come out of the shadow of expectation cast onto me from day one and to be his own person. 

When Arthur’s name was called and the hat placed on his head, I first thing he thought of was, “Not SlYtherin.”

“What?” the hat responded with a mild tone of surprise. “Are you sure, dear boy? You fit into that house quite nicely. You are of pure blood with a sharp mind. It would help you rather than hinder you.”

The brit unconsciously bit his lip in nervousness. He had to make the hat believe that he didn’t belong in Slytherin, despite how much he actually did. “While you are not wrong, a Slytherin…isn’t the kind of person I want to be. Please, place me in a different house.”

“Hmm…” it pondered. “Alright, I won’t put you in Slytherin—”

“Right, so I’ll be in Ravenclaw then, correct?” The boy interrupted the hat. “After all, that seems like the most logical choice next to Slytherin.”

The hat vibrated in a throaty chuckle. “Young man, you may be intelligent, but you’re strictly a user of knowledge, not a seeker. Ravenclaw would not help you very much.”

Arthur mentally scoffed at the hat. “If not Ravenclaw, then what? Hufflepuff?”

But the hat didn’t respond to the blonde’s sarcastic remark, instead opting to bellow out loud, “GRYFFINDOR!”

Well, thought Arthur, that was certainly unexpected.


End file.
